Sea-yield, Pulmoddai

Life is  process
death too,
for some lives
are watered
by water-extraction
of both the living
and the dead,
and in the commerce 
of surplus-draw
death has different tags:
this one fresh,
that one preserved;
it’s all cut and dried
from sea to plate,
snip-snap life
has price and sorrow
lament and cheer
in gradations of volume
nuance of weight and flavour,
and immemorial questions:
who got caught,
who got dried,
who lives and who is dead?

[Inspired by the photography of Pushpakumara Mathugama and published in the UNDO Section of The Nation]

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Now…

Now is another name

for tomorrow

it’s made of ‘yes’
a ‘yes’ of two million voices
a ‘no’ to yesterday,
and yes, a ‘maybe’ for some,
but a ‘yes’ of smile and resolve
of doing and doable
doing the not-done-for-years,
of prayers that may get answered
earth divested of grief
or containing sufferability in volume,
but pregnant
with yearned for harvests
of road, hospital and school
of childhood
and night skies
that will not collapse
on roof, road and dream ,
where politician lies
but does not kill
where there is grin,
not grimace,
a ‘yes’ said with caution, yes,
but not to please;
‘Now’ is another name
another word forbidden by way,
made possible by war-end:
ours to keep,
ours to squander.

Pic by Pushpakumara Matugama

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